


Stealing away my heart

by ju4jen



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:57:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ju4jen/pseuds/ju4jen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen has been warned not to 'borrow' any more clothes from wardrobe but it doesn't stop him.  Jared is worried they will get caught until he isn't...  inspired by Jensen's confession of crimes and misdemeanours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stealing away my heart

A crash and a muffled curse, is swiftly followed by a few further thumps and then a long litany of angry but still indecipherable comments.

“Uh... Jen,  are you OK?”  whispers  Jared into the trailer.  He seems uncomfortable, nervous, eyes darting fearfully about him.

The flood of what can only be described as profanities continues.

“Shhh...” Jared replies frantically.  The danger of getting caught sending him nauseous rather than excited.  However, the thumping and crashing are unremitting.  A quick decision – and he ducks through the door.

A desperate scene is laid out before him, angled light from the door way cutting a broad swathe through the dark shadows. The trailer, usually crowded with the ranks of ordered clothing racks, resembles the aftermath of a bitch fight between Hell’s  finest and the Anarchist – bloody, chaotic and  traumatised..  A jeans clad leg, stopped by a pair of heavy work boots is poking through the  sad morass of plaid and cotton, and one fierce hazel green eye is visible  glaring up at him through the hangers and the mangled poles.

“What the f...?”  Jared’s  eyes widen  with surprise and a little fear, “Dear God.  What the hell have you done?  You’re dead!”

“Just get this stuff off me,” comes a faux angry reply laced with amusement.

Jared glances behind him through the open door to reassure himself that, so far, they remain undetected and then moves further into the trailer.  He bends and then tugs on the nearest demolished rack.

“Jeez... this is  a mess,” he mutters, as he tries to untangle the entwined hangers of a long beige trench coat from a well-worn and very familiar hoodie.

“You think?  Mr. Captain Bloody Obvious?” snarls his companion, who  appears to have knotted himself into a range of white ladies nightwear, some still bearing the stains of corn syrup blood. A crackle and a shocked cry provided witness to the static electricity fighting back.

Jared giggles as the ludicrousness nature of the situation overwhelms his fear.

“This will teach you not to steal from wardrobe!”  He exclaims into the darkness – he still cannot fully see Jensen although the muffled moans and persistent cursing suggest that Jensen is still trying to Houdini his way out of his own mess.   “If you’re caught in here...”  Jared continues sounding a little pompous and self righteous.  He did warn his co-star

There’s a short stillness and quiet.  Jared senses rather than sees green eyes raised to the ceiling in recollection and the wry twist to Jensen’s mouth.   Jared glances at the stark black words illuminated by the studio lights that threaten pain, and possibly death, if Mr. Ackles is found any where near wardrobe unsupervised and out of hours ever again.

“What do you mean if I get caught’?  Dude, don’t bail out on me now - we’re both in this together! ”  The voice comes  from under the pile of jackets that had been hung up on the furthest rack which is now reclining at an awkward angle.

“Not a chance,”  Jared responds with a  snort, “I’m nothing to do with this.  This is all your idea.  You’re the one too lazy to go fucking shopping like any normal human being”.  He’s finally got the rack he was battling with mostly upright but there is a hideous twist to it, and he knows as soon as he lets go, it will just fall. Even with his eyes adjusting to the gloom, he still can’t quite see what is going on and he flicks the switch on the wall behind him.

“Hey, why go shopping when there is a whole department of people buying clothes for a guy in just my size!”    Jensen has finally got his head and arms free from the chaos on the floor and he is grinning at Jared in triumph,  holding up  a heavy dark blue cotton shirt.

“What about this one?”

“Really, man?  You died like a thousand times in that shirt!”

Jensen’s smile falters.

“Really?”  He frowns at the shirt, puzzled, then looks back up to his co-star with a cautious question in wide eyes.

Jared sighs in exasperation.

“It’s your Mystery Spot shirt,”  he huffs.

“Oh!”  The older man gazes at the shirt for a couple more seconds then he turns back to Jared, slowly.

“How the hell do you remember that?” He asks, a little carefully.

Jared starts at the question, and realises that those darkened green eyes, narrowed, glittering and thoughtful,  are staring intently at him.  He flails around in his head for a way to cover his mistake.  No way he’s going to ‘fess up to his overwhelming interest in whatever clothing happens to be covering Jensen’s body at any particular moment.

“Photographic memory,” he decides to respond.  “You aren’t seriously considering going in that are you?”  and congratulates himself on a piece of nifty distraction and sidelining.

Jensen, although still swathed in clothes from the waist down and sat on the floor,  shrugs and then lets a crafty smile escape.

“Don’t you think it’ll bring out the colour in my eyes?”  and Jared is having to swallow hard, and take a couple of steps back.

“No!”  Jared huffs  gruffly. “Come on, we should get outta here.”  His looks takes in the mess and the now blazing lights and he can see this adventure is not going to end well when their inevitable discovery takes place. 

“Help me up, then!”   Jensen is reaching out a hand to his friend who takes a fraction of second to process his request and respond.  An enormous, only slightly damp and warm hand fits swamps his own.

But Jensen is still very much snarled and tangled and instead of rising up from the sea of clothes, like glorious Venus, he yanks a calf muscle still twisted in cotton, yelps in what he hopes is a manly way but suspects sounds girly, and comes crashing back to the floor,  only this time, his own weight is enough to knock the Sasquatch to the floor too, landing straight on top of him and knocking out every breath. 

“Ummmnnnffff,” he exclaims painfully, starts to giggle, then stops.

Jared stares down at him, face only inches away with the shorter man’s whole body matched along his length.  For a moment it feels like Christmas day and his birthday all rolled up in one.  Jensen is very still, and his eyes are very wide and they are looking very intently at Jared.

“ummnnfghg  brnnnnthh,”  Jensen says again after a few moments of strangeness.  Jared’s brain rockets around the idea that his friend’s lack of breath is the result of passion, newly revealed and about to be consummated, which sends hot, pulsing messages to the parts of him that very definitely have no connection to his brain.  And then he realises that Jensen actually, truly, and really can’t breathe and that he is, if he hasn’t already, about to make a complete ass of himself, ruin a perfectly brilliant friendship and destroy the lives of a few but very enthusiastic fans because there is no way they can do season 7 if they aren’t talking to each other.  He doesn’t quite get to blaming himself for the impending apocalypse because it becomes very essential to get off Jensen as quickly as he possibly can.

“Sorry...” he mumbles hoping that Jensen can’t see the fearful flush in his cheeks, but he’s on top of  a mountain of clothes and broken metal poles, and he has arms and legs as long as highways, and he’s never been the most graceful of people, so he ends up off Jensen certainly but entangled in his own knots and  jumbles and unable to stand up.  He struggles for a while.

 “This is not cool!”   He states angrily, and then dies because there is something  very understanding and knowing about the way his friend is looking at him.

“So not cool!”  Jensen repeats, but without any rancour or force, and accompanied by a soft smile. And just like that, he is up and free of the chaos, and stretching down to help his larger friend up.

“Man, this is a mess,” he says, “do we sort it out or deny everything?”

Jared, unwinding three ties from around his ankle,  desperately tries to avoid Jensen’s gaze, and hopes that the question isn’t metaphorical.

“Um... deny everything?” he answers just in case.

“I don’t think so,” Jared jumps as Jensen moves smoothly into his personal space and lays a hand on his chest,  where his heart is beating so fast and so loud that there is no way the guy can’t hear or feel it.  Everything stills, as Jensen leans in and brushes soft, dry lips against Jared’s own.  It’s brief and gentle, and leaves Jared gasping for air.

He stands there shocked to his core at this unexpected turn of events , as Jensen draws away and carefully  clambers over to the door.

“Cm’on Jay!” He laughs, “ time to flee the scene of the crime... Oh wait... what about this one?”  He pounces on a light grey scrap, his face split open wide in a broad smile that was matched by the crinkles at the side of sparkling eyes.  Jared, doing his best impression of a fish out of water  thinks he hasn’t seen anything so outrageously beautiful in a long time, or at least since the last time Jensen turned his full wattage grin on him.  Nor has he seen anything so goofy.  But he pulls himself together.

“Sure, “ he answers, “except that one has been shredded by hell hounds...”

 “Uh...OK... huh!”  Jensen notices the shreds and the fake blood stains and looks back his tall friend ruefully.

Suddenly Jared just wants to get out of this trailer.  “You’ve got a thousand shirts, Jen.  Any one of them will do.  You’ll look gorgeous whatever you wear.  What about that grey one, with the silver shot through it?  Or the green one?  That one really does bring out the colour in y...” Jared shuts his mouth quickly, groans and sinks back down to crouch with his head in his hands, brain completely melting. 

“You seem to know a lot about what I wear, Jared Padalecki.”  Jensen says.  And finally Jared looks up and surrenders.  Jensen knows, because he isn’t stupid, and there is something about the doting but ever so slightly exasperated expression in his face, that alerts Jared to the knowledge that perhaps he has always known and that he’s just been waiting around for the penny to drop for his co-star.

“Oh... um... yeh?” Jared feels  a sudden lightness, and a bubbling up of joy because, actually, this is going to be alright.  He smiles back, a mile wide grin.

And then he’s tripping over a hanger in an effort to get to his best friend, and there is a fierce coming together of lips and hands and... 

“Dear God!   What the hell has happened in here?”

The boys spring apart, tripping over coats, and jeans and shoes and hangers, but they look over to each other and grin.  They've been caught.  The trailor looks as though a hurricane has blown through it and there will probably be bloodletting and other heinous punishments.  But Jared no longer cares.

 

fin


End file.
